


Goodwill is Sent in Snapshots (You Only Get the Full Picture on Return)

by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Background Fire Fam, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Nothing But Softness Here, Seriously There is No Plot to This, The Holiday AU, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28298247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/pseuds/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Summary: When both Evan Buckley and Chimney Han are dumped at the start of December, they decide to swap houses - with each other. A nice two weeks in a different location will be a great unconventional Christmas. Certainly not anything life changing.Then Buck meets Chim's next-door-neighbor, and Chim meets Buck's apartment-crashing sister.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Comments: 120
Kudos: 513





	Goodwill is Sent in Snapshots (You Only Get the Full Picture on Return)

**Author's Note:**

> With special love to extasiswings, elisela, spinningincircles and blueboxtardis.
> 
> For the purposes of this fic I have decided that Chim’s nickname came during his firefighter training in LA, so he still has the nickname even though he’s been with a different station in Texas for a few years.

Abby breaks up with him on December 1st.

There’s something kind of hilarious about that. It’s supposed to be the happiest season, and the woman that Buck thought was going to be the love of his life, the woman he’d stay with forever, has just broken up with him.

Not that he didn’t see it coming. When Abby left in May, she’d said that it would be a while for her to come back, and that Buck shouldn’t wait for her. He’d thought he was being romantic when he told her that he wanted to wait, that it would all be okay. That he’d still be here for her when she returned.

Now, six and a half months later, he realizes that it was her way of hinting that they should go their separate ways.

At least she’s finally admitted it, he supposes. When her emails and updates got fewer and farther apart, and were shorter, less detailed, he got the feeling that he was losing her. But he’s never had a proper relationship before. He’s never been in love before. He didn’t know how to let go.

Now Abby’s done it for him.

He should feel angry, he supposes. He should feel relieved. Instead he just feels tired and sad.

 _I get that she’s trying to be happy,_ he’d told Hen just a couple of months ago. _I just want to know, when do I get to be happy?_

Now he’s got no plans for Christmas, either. Originally, Abby was supposed to come home and they’d have the holidays together, but instead she’s going from wherever she is now (Greece? Or is it Croatia?) up to Vienna and Prague so she can see the Christmas markets.

He’s not going back east to play the performing puppy for Mom and Dad’s various social appearances. He hasn’t heard from Maddie in two years. This is Bobby’s first Christmas with Athena and her family and Buck’s not gonna complicate that even further by butting in. Hen will probably invite him if she finds out he’s alone but no way is Buck going to be the awkward extra on that shindig.

He’s got to get out of L.A. He’s got to get away from the ghost of Abby. Fuck, and he’s got to get out of her apartment.

Apartments… hmm…

That’s the train of thought that takes him, at two in the morning, onto one of those home exchange sites. You give someone your place for however long and they give you theirs. It feels perfect. Buck will get a nice holiday alone, away from everyone who knows about his heartbreak, and then when he comes back in January, he can find a place of his own. New year, new start.

He’s not got anywhere in particular he’s looking to go. Just not back east, and just not in California.

A cute little ranch home in Texas catches his eye. Owner seems like he’s not a serial killer. And his profile is funny.

Buck sends a request.

* * *

Chimney has to get the fuck out of Texas before he loses his _mind_.

When he’d taken an offer to work at the local station back in the day, his only thought had been to get somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t Los Angeles. He’d been reeling from the death of his best friend and he’d just needed a new start.

And things have been, you know, fine. He’s made some friends. One really good one, actually, who also happens to be his next-door neighbor because the guy heard that the landlord’s renter was moving out and recommended Chim to him.

But the problem is, every single person (besides one person) at the station is happily in a relationship, and Chimney’s latest girlfriend just dumped him—and right before Christmas too—and good luck hearing from Dad over the holidays, and if he has to see one more cozy couple he really will scream.

He does have some money saved up, so he wonders, hey, why not book an Air B&B or something? But then all the good places have been booked for months because duh, holidays. However, the google searching does take him to a home exchange website.

Ooh. Give someone your home in exchange for theirs. Sounds like a fair deal. His place is cute. Two bedrooms, with a nice open kitchen-living room floor plan, and a spacious backyard (complete with a swing set).

It’s the two beers that set up his profile, but whatever. Chim’s being spontaneous, because he _can_ be spontaneous, ha, take that Marissa.

His profile’s been up for not even six hours when he gets a message from some guy in Los Angeles.

Los Angeles. That’s ironic.

The guy’s profile is nice. The apartment looks gorgeous. And he’s a firefighter, holy shit.

_Hey! I’m Buck. Saw your profile – you’re really funny, man. I’m looking to get away for a couple weeks, over Christmas. Would you be willing to exchange? I know it’s the holidays and you probably have family but thought I’d ask._

Chim grins and replies. _Hey I was actually hoping to get away for Christmas so works great for me. I’m a firefighter too, by the way, fun coincidence._

 _No way!_ Buck replies. _I’m with the 118 here, they’re super great people. Would two weeks be too much? Too little?_

 _Two weeks sounds great._ He requested that time off ages ago, thinking he’d be spending holidays with Marissa and her family and that he didn’t want to let work get in the way. _And hey if your station needs me to take your shifts, that’s fine._

He gets a stream of laughing emojis in response. _I mean they’d probably loooooove you over me, dude. And right back atcha though._

His station would probably strangle this guy in two seconds. Chim wishes he could be here to see that. _Sounds like a deal._

From there, they hammer out logistics—timing, house rules, parking, house keys. Buck seems like a good guy, if a little energetic, and Chim ends the whole deal feeling ten times better than he did a few days ago.

A nice, relaxing holiday… he could stop by and see Kevin’s parents, he definitely owes Mrs. Lee a visit…

Yeah. This could be just what he needs.

* * *

This. House. Is. Gorgeous.

Buck drops his bags just inside the front door and grins around him. Hot damn, you can really afford a nice place when you’re not in LA.

Not that Buck needs to worry about that. Mom and Dad can’t cut him off from the trust fund if they tried, ha. And they’ve tried. Hoo boy, ever since he told them he was dropping out of business school, have they tried.

(In Dad’s mind, there are only three acceptable careers, in order of preference: business or broker or some equivalent, doctor, and lawyer.)

He wanders around, gets a feel for the place, kisses the Nespresso machine in thanks, and then hits up the grocery store.

“Somebody’s having a party tonight,” the woman at the cash register says as she rings up the several bags of family-size chips, the wine, the chocolate cake, chip dip, and ice cream.

“Oh, definitely,” Buck tells her with his most winning smile.

He never really did the whole… binge-eating-while-crying deal when Abby officially called things off. He was staying at her place, and it had just felt weird, and a little too pathetic. He’d also felt like Athena and Bobby would somehow instinctively just _know_ if he did.

But now he’s staying at a stranger’s house in another city entirely. He can eat junk food, get drunk, and cry over Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks as much as he pleases.

 _Aw, don’t cry,_ Tom Hanks says tenderly as Buck sobs into his Ben & Jerrys.

He’s got to get some dignity back eventually.

Buck falls asleep on the couch, covered in a duvet, food strewn out on the coffee table in front of him and ice cream smeared on his cheek as the credits roll.

He wakes up to a rhythmic squeaking noise.

_Wee-wah, wee-wah, wee-wah, wee-wah…_

At first he thinks it’s his alarm, but it’s too quiet for that. Where is he? Why… oh, fuck, yeah, Texas. Holiday home swap. Food binge. Romcoms.

Buck stares up at the ceiling and wonders how his life got to this point. The existential crisis would probably last longer if he didn’t have to pee so bad.

He gets up, takes care of business, and then stumbles to the kitchen to get some coffee.

That’s when he notices the rhythmic squeaking noise again. What _is_ that?

Buck steps out into the backyard, and that’s when he sees that someone’s on the swing set. That’s what’s causing the noise.

The kid, a cute curly-haired tyke about seven or so, with glasses, drags his feet awkwardly through the dirt to stop his swinging. Buck takes note of the crutches propped up against the support beam.

“You’re not Chimney,” the kid declares.

“Uh… uh, no, no, I’m—I’m Buck,” Buck replies.

The kid squints at him. “Are you hiding from the law?”

“What? No!”

The kid shrugs. “Oh, okay then.” He sounds disappointed. Then he perks back up. “Are you his boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

The kid looks disappointed again.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Buck adds. “I’d love a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or a… yeah. Uh. I’m just not. That.”

“Chimney’s girlfriend broke up with him,” the kid says. “My dad said I had to stay out of the yard for a while, because Chimney needed space. But these are my swings and it’s been a week.”

“Chimney and I just switched houses, for the holidays,” Buck clarifies. “I’m sorry about the break up. My girlfriend just broke up with me, too, so I get it. But uh, I don’t mind you using the swings. You can come over anytime.”

The kid nods. “I’m Christopher. My dad says I shouldn’t talk to strangers but if Chimney knows you then it’s okay. Chim’s really great. He babysits me when Dad’s busy.”

Christopher has a soft voice that pulls you in, and Buck’s heart kind of (okay, majorly) melts. He’s always been a sucker for kids.

“Chim sounds like a great guy. And uh, hey, Christopher, does your dad know you’re over here?” He would never hurt Christopher but this parent doesn’t know that.

“No, but it’s okay, he knows if I’m not in our backyard then I’m at Chimney’s.”

“Uh, okay, well I haven’t met your dad yet, so I’m gonna go back inside and clean up and maybe later I can meet him, okay? So he knows that I’m not going to eat you for dinner with mashed potatoes.” Buck winks at him.

Christopher giggles. His laugh is fucking adorable. “Okay, Buck.”

Buck waves and goes back inside. Cute kid. He wonders what the dad’s like.

* * *

This apartment is fantastic.

Chim is already in love. Great views, lovely open floorplan, great shower… it’s got it all. He’s already got plans to see Mrs. Lee for dinner (she said Mr. Lee wasn’t ready yet, and he understands) and it’s only his first night in.

He steps out to get some groceries, see the neighborhood, and when he comes back, he hops in that glorious shower. Talk about good water pressure. He wants to look his best tonight—he wants to show the woman who treated him like a son that he’s doing okay, really he is, that there’s nothing to…

…did he hear the front door?

Chim strains his ears, hears nothing, shrugs to himself and rinses out his hair.

The curtain is yanked open and a cupful of freezing water smacks him in the chest, sending him jumping and yelping. “What the fu—”

A gorgeous brunette stands in front of him, cup in hand, gaping. “You’re—you’re not my brother.”

“No,” Chimney replies. “No, I am not.”

* * *

Buck spends the rest of the day inside, cleaning up, and then napping because ugh, wine and ice cream hangovers are not fun. When he gets up again to check the backyard, Christopher’s gone, but Buck can now see the little gate that connects Chimney’s fence to the one next door, with a special latch for easy maneuvering on, say, crutches, and figures that’s where the kid got to.

He’s not going to wallow. He’s _not_.

He forces himself to make a proper dinner. Then it’s okay to have more ice cream. And he only checks Abby’s Facebook page with her latest travel photos for like. Twenty minutes. It’s fine.

A knock at the front door startles him and he closes the app in guilt before going to check it out.

The hottest guy Buck’s ever seen shoves past him into the house. “Do you know what bullshit they’re trying to pull now?” he asks, his voice rough like he’s been crying or yelling, maybe both.

Buck stares at him. Same height, built, with sticking-up soft-looking brown hair and big, warm brown eyes. Buck's throat goes dry and he has to swallow with an audible click.

Tall-and-gorgeous stares back, blinking. “You’re not Chimney.”

“Very astute. Also not the first time I’ve been told that today.”

Tall-and-gorgeous folds his arms. “What are you doing in his house?”

“Um… holiday house exchange?” Did Chimney not tell anyone about this?

“…oh fuck.” Tall-and-gorgeous rubs at his eyes, then drags a hand through his hair. “That was today, wasn’t it. I’m sorry. I should…”

“No, hey, you need someone to talk to, I’m here, and trust me, I could use the company.” He’s kind of desperate for the company, honestly.

Tall-and-gorgeous sticks out his hand. “Eddie.”

“Buck.”

Eddie’s grip is warm and firm and Buck has to swallow again. “Sit down, I’ve got… wine, beer, ice cream… chocolate cake… literally whatever crisis you’re having, I have the medicine.”

Eddie snorts in amusement and shrugs. “I shouldn’t have come over, I’m just… I’m sick of everyone telling me I can’t handle shit…”

“You want…” Buck gestures at the kitchen.

“No, no, I already had something to drink, I shouldn’t.”

“Okay. How about, um, chips? Or cake? To help… absorb the alcohol?” That’s how it works, right?

Eddie nods, then sits down heavily on the couch. “Thanks, man.”

“Not a problem.”

Two slices of cake later, and Eddie’s just wrapping up his passionate diatribe about his father. Buck’s nodding along, feeling some real kinship with the guy over this, but he keeps getting distracted by how Eddie wraps his lips around bites of chocolate cake.

Eddie trails off, and stares at Buck. Specifically, Buck’s mouth.

“What?” Does he have a smear of frosting there or something?

“I think I’m still kind of drunk,” Eddie says and leans forward, planting his mouth on Buck’s.

Buck inhales in surprise, and Eddie licks into his mouth without preamble. He tastes like chocolate and Buck’s moaning before he can think to stop it, pressing forward into Eddie’s touch, bracing himself on the couch to steady himself as Eddie sucks on his tongue.

Buck hasn’t been kissed this thoroughly in _years_. Not since, um, whatshisname? In sophomore year? From the rival frat?

Who even knows, why is he thinking about other people when the most beautiful man he’s ever met is crawling into his lap and holding his face and kissing him like a meteor’s headed this way.

He kisses back, dizzy, euphoric, desperate to be touched like this for the first time in seven months—desperate to be touched at _all_ —

Eddie breaks the kiss with a wet noise that sends a hot thrill through Buck’s stomach, and rests their foreheads together. He’s panting, his weight on Buck’s thighs, and Buck feels like he’s floating. “I… I’m sorry. I’m. I’m drunk. I shouldn’t…”

“Yeah, no, it’s good.” Buck doesn’t want to be someone’s drunken mistake.

Eddie nods. “Um. It’s not you. You’re hot. I’d still think that if I was… fuck.” He laughs breathlessly. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re cute,” Buck counters. “But you should go home.”

Eddie nods and stands, only wobbly for a second before he steadies. “Thanks for… the cake. And the kiss. And listening.”

“Anytime.” He means that.

Eddie gives an awkward salute and then backs out the… why’d he go out the back door?

Doesn’t matter. He’s gone, and Buck’s left in the living room wondering if the events of the past forty-five minutes were just a really vivid hallucination.

* * *

The brunette’s name is Maddie, she’s Buck’s older sister, and she is the most adorable creature Chim’s ever met in his life.

“I just wanted to surprise him,” she confesses after Chimney dries off, gets dressed, and meets her in the living room for their awkward reunion. “I haven’t seen him in years.”

“I’m sorry you missed him. But this is just for a couple of weeks, he’ll be back soon. In the meantime, if you want, I can find a hotel…”

“No, no, please don’t, I can… um…” Maddie pauses.

Something in her eyes makes Chim pause. He’s seen it a lot, working as an emergency responder.

Fear.

“You’ll stay here,” he declares. “Don’t even worry about it. I know it’s a one bedroom but Buck mentioned the couch is a pull out.”

“I’ll take that,” Maddie says.

“No, you’re his sister, I’ll take the pull out.”

“You’re supposed to be enjoying this place all to yourself!” Maddie’s laughing. “Let me take the pull out, please.”

“Fine, we’ll alternate nights.”

She snorts. “All right, deal.”

They shake on it. Her hand is almost as warm as her smile.

Oh, he’s in trouble.

* * *

The next morning Buck’s not entirely sure that he didn’t completely dream the night before. Did the hottest guy he’s ever met just stroll into his house, complain about his parents for almost an hour, then kiss Buck and leave?

He resolves to not drink today and also not to check social media, so he cleans up the house a little and steals a book from Chimney’s shelves to read on the back porch.

Except he’s not alone out there.

Christopher is back, clambering up onto the swings. He’s just as adorable as Buck remembers.

“Hey, buddy.” Buck grins, glad to see the kid again. Christopher’s the kind of kid you fall in love with instantly. “You can use the swing set but I should really meet your dad…”

“I think you already did,” says a familiar voice, and Buck looks up to see Eddie, tall-and-gorgeous Eddie, ate-cake-and-kissed-him-last-night Eddie, standing in the open gateway.

Buck isn’t sure if he wants the earth to swallow him or if this is his present from Santa.

“Hey,” Buck blurts out.

Eddie walks over, and holy mother of God, he’s better in the daytime, with the sun shining on him, getting caught in the dusty soft brown of his hair and sliding over the golden edges of his arms and jaw.

Buck sits down. Not for any particular reason. He just feels like sitting.

He pats the spot next to him and Eddie sits down, their knees knocking together. “So.”

“So.” Buck has no idea what to say next. “Uh. Cute kid. I met him yesterday but I figured I should… stay inside, since I didn’t think you’d… I’m a stranger, y’know?”

“No, I appreciate it, thanks.”

“I love kids,” Buck adds. Probably a little too eagerly.

The corner of Eddie’s mouth turns up and he looks over at where Christopher is happily swinging himself. “I love this one.”

“Chimney didn’t mention, uh, that he’d come over. Not that I mind, just. Sorry.”

Eddie snorts. “Don’t apologize. Honestly I should be apologizing to you, for the way I… I wasn’t in my best place last night.”

“Hey, it sounds like you just needed someone to talk to. I’m happy to be that person. Hasn’t been so peachy for me either lately so I get it, really.” Buck pauses. “Chimney’s got a sweet gaming setup, would you two like to…?”

Eddie can probably sense how desperately lonely Buck is, because he nods and says, “I’d love that.”

* * *

It takes a little under two days for Chim to figure out something is up with Maddie.

The first thing is that she seems anxious about when Buck will come back. “I won’t be staying long past the new year,” she says.

The second thing is how she never goes to get the take out that comes to the door. She startles a little, and stares at it until Chim opens it.

The third thing is she is _not_ in the Christmas spirit.

“Do we… have to get a tree?” she asks, when Chimney suggests they go shopping for one.

“No,” he replies, cleaning up the takeout. Maddie can never decide what to get so they ordered from like, five different places. It’s so fucking adorable he can’t even stand it.

Part of him feels bad that he’s melting into a puddle of goo over this woman when he only just got dumped, but Maddie’s… Maddie’s funny, and sweet, and she eagerly agrees to a Buffy marathon, and it’s only been a day but he’s wondering if kismet, serendipity, all that shit actually does exist.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he says, and he means it.

Maddie bites her bottom lip. “Do you… really mean that? Or are you just saying it?”

“No, I really mean it.” He sits down next to her on the couch. “Maddie, I just came here to escape being the only single person in my station on Christmas. Well, except Eddie, but I think being a widower is a bit different than being dumped. I don’t care what we do, I just care that we have fun while we do it.”

Maddie looks away, but she’s smiling, and the tension goes out of her shoulders. “Well, what do you like to do to have fun?”

Chim thinks for a moment. “You ever go to a karaoke bar?”

Turns out, Maddie can _sing_.

“I was in choir growing up,” she laughs. “Did all the musicals in high school.”

The place Chim used to go to, before he chose to become a firefighter, before he lost his best friend, is still standing—shockingly—and Maddie immediately falls in love with it. When she orders three appetizers because she can’t choose and suggests “Friends in Low Places” for their first song choice, Chim’s pretty sure he’s not the only one falling in love with something.

He hasn’t stayed until last call at a bar since before… before leaving Los Angeles, and he feels a bit sheepish when the manager turns out the lights over the bar and gives them a pointed look.

But it’s worth it for the pink staining Maddie’s cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes, the wide smile on her face. “I haven’t had that much fun in… years,” she admits as they walk back to the apartment.

It’s a bit of a walk, but not too bad, and it’s nice out. Besides, neither of them have cars. “Then you, my friend, have been missing out majorly.”

“I really have been,” Maddie says, and her voice is soft and sad.

Chim instantly feels bad. “Y’know…”

They pass a group of drunken college-age kids belting out _Silent Night_ in what is probably an attempt to harmonize but comes out sounding more like a collection of fighting cats, and Maddie winces. More than winces—she jolts, pressing against Chim in an unconscious grab for support.

He steadies her, they walk on, and the moment passes. Maddie rights herself. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He pauses. “And, uh, I know we just met… but if you need to talk to someone about anything… I’ve been told I’m a very good listener.”

Maddie nods, and silence falls for a few minutes.

They’re about a block away from the apartment when she speaks again.

“Christmas used to be my favorite time of year. I’d go all-out, do everything. Mom and Dad always… it was a chance to show off, for them, and I knew that, but I didn’t mind because I liked making cookies, decorating, hosting parties. And Evan… he adored how much I adored it. I totally infected him with the Christmas spirit. I kept Santa going until he was twelve, I would put little boot prints on the floor, I’d play a recording of sleigh bells… I liked… making magic for him.”

Maddie smiles at the memory, and Chimney’s heart flips.

And then Maddie’s smile slips away. “After I got married it was different. It was another time for me to have to be perfect and to… to fail.”

Something dark and terrified slips through her eyes, and it occurs to Chim that he hasn’t seen Maddie wearing a wedding ring or mention a husband.

“Last year I—I remember I was—things had—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Chim says. He’s wary of touching her right now, careful of her boundaries. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“No, I know, but I…” Maddie laughs and looks up at the stars. Her eyes are wet. “I should tell someone. I haven’t spoken to anyone about it. I should.”

“Okay.”

She nods, looking ahead, not at him. “Things had gone… not perfectly… Doug did what he always did, and I was… picking up the pieces. Literally. And I remember he looked at me and said, he said… _it’s okay, you’ll do better next year_. And then I looked and I saw the Christmas card Evan had sent me. And I thought—I thought that’s my baby brother. I haven’t spoken to him in—in years—and I thought… yeah. Yeah, I would do better next year.”

Maddie wipes at her eyes. “I spent all year planning. I didn’t tell anyone, we worked at the same hospital so I couldn’t trust… he’s very charming, you know? Really funny and unassuming. So… when the time came I… I packed everything I could into a suitcase and I used my trust fund to come here. It’s the one account he can’t touch, it’s not joint.”

“Evan must be a really amazing brother,” Chim says.

Maddie smiles. “He is. He really is.”

“And you’re an amazing woman.”

She looks up at him, shock smeared on her face.

Chim shrugs. “Not everyone can get out. I’ve never… seen it up close, you know, but I’m an emergency responder. We get calls. We go over. And the victim makes excuses. We offer them help, safety, we tell them we can get them out—and they don’t. And I’m not blaming them. It’s terrifying. What I’m saying is… I know how hard it is. I know how many people can’t do it. So I think it’s brave of you, I think it’s courageous of you, that you’ve done it.”

“I don’t feel very brave,” Maddie admits.

“I don’t think any of us do, while we’re doing the brave thing,” Chim replies.

Maddie smiles at him, and links her arm through his, and Chim feels both like he’s floating and like he’s never felt more grounded in his life.

“So,” he says, to break the tension, get them onto lighter subjects, “how about we have a non-Christmas Christmas. Forget trees and stockings and Santa. We’ll just do whatever we feel like doing. Anyone who’s not Christian does it every year, why can’t we?”

Maddie laughs a little, like she’s making herself practice laughing. “Sounds good to me.”

The look on her face is so grateful, Chim knows he’d do a hell of a lot more than give up a Christmas tree if it was for her.

* * *

Buck hasn’t had a day this good since Abby left. Maybe even before that, since his days with Abby, while wonderful, were often interrupted by her mother’s needs.

Christopher is delighted with the video games, and Eddie seems delighted with how Buck treats his son. He says as much that evening after Christopher’s in bed.

They invited Buck over for dinner, and Buck’s not sure how he ended up being the one who cooked it, but when Eddie took his first bite of pasta he looked over at Buck like he might tackle him—in a good way—and Buck’s been riding that high for the last hour.

“You’re really good with him,” Eddie says, passing Buck a beer. “Thanks. Not everyone is. I think my mom’s still convince he’s made of glass.”

“I mean, he’s a kid, all kids just want to be listened to,” Buck points out. Sometimes he thinks that he’s only so good with kids because he remembers how bad his parents were with him. “My, uh, my ex-girlfriend, her mom had Alzheimer’s. It really taught me a lot, about… not that CP’s the same thing, but…”

“No, I get it.” Eddie settles against the counter with his own beer. “And really, thanks. He’s been going through a lot the last year. His… his mom died, Shannon, my…” Eddie winces. “I don’t want to say wife. But I can’t say ex-wife. I don’t know what to call her.”

“Were you divorced?”

“Good as. She… she left, two years ago. Left just a—a note in the middle of the night. My parents hated her for that. Christopher… he kept saying she’d come back, but then when she never called him, never sent him any letters he kind of… stopped talking about her. Mom didn’t help, kids have ears, y’know?”

Eddie’s voice is raw, and Buck—Buck knows that rawness. Feels it in his chest every time he thinks of Abby.

“And y’know, I left first. Ran away to war, told myself I was taking care of my family, but… everyone supported me and then Shannon, when she ran, they called her a monster.”

Buck doesn’t have many pieces of the puzzle, here, but he’s not entirely sure if what Eddie did is the same as what Shannon did. That’s something to keep to himself, though, partially because he wants to do nothing more than kiss Eddie again and that makes him at least fifty percent biased.

“Anyway.” Eddie sighs. “She reached out again, earlier this year. I guess she missed us. I had thought about moving to LA, since that’s where she was, but I didn’t… I didn’t know. I was still angry with her.”

He takes a bitter sip of his beer. “Then she got hit by a car and oh look, the decision was out of my hands.”

“Eddie,” Buck breathes. He can’t even imagine.

Eddie shrugs. “My only real concern was for Christopher. I wasn’t… I worry that if I saw her again, if I had her right in front of me, I’d dive into bad habits. Sleep with her and muddle everything. Sex makes everything complicated.”

Buck snorts. “Yeah, you got that right.”

“But I don’t think I was in love with her,” Eddie adds. His voice is low, like it’s a horrible secret. “Not anymore.”

“She left you. She didn’t talk to her son for two years. You’re allowed to stop loving someone after they do that.” Buck sets his beer down. “What Abby—Abby’s my ex, she’s the first person I ever really fell in love with, my first adult relationship. And I’m bitter over how she—her mom died, right? And so she went to Ireland to spend some time with herself. But she just stayed. And stayed. And now she’s all over Europe doing the whole _Eat, Pray, Love_ thing. And she broke up with me, that’s why I’m here, and… it’s not the same as what Shannon did to you, so I’m just saying that I understand how painful it is to be left. But I’m also saying—Abby taught me a lot. I wouldn’t go back and undo my relationship with her because she’s what helped me learn to be an adult. And in relationships… love isn’t just an emotion. It’s an action. You gotta choose to put in the work. And I did that with Abby, every day, so we worked for a while, but she didn’t put in the work so we… stopped.

“Shannon didn’t put in the work, she left, for two years. Love can’t exist in a vacuum, it can’t be expected to just sit there and keep existing for no reason, not when it’s not fed or grown. So I think—I think that’s fair to say. You didn’t love her anymore. And that’s okay, Eddie. It’s okay.”

Eddie nods, his eyes a bit red. “My parents don’t… well. They hate her. And they never really liked her, I suppose, nothing she did was ever good enough—but nothing I do’s ever good enough, either, so. Who knows. But it’s like—they expect me to hate her now, and they’re disappointed I don’t, but before, they were mad that I didn’t love her enough to get her to stay.”

“Nothing I did was ever good enough for my parents, either,” Buck admits.

“You know what they were going to do?” Eddie looks at him. “Last night, when I came over? I’d just come from—my parents telling me that I wasn’t around Chris enough. That I needed to do more. And since I couldn’t, they should raise him. They should have him. They wanted custody, they wanted…”

He cuts himself off, all of it too much, and Buck grabs him before he can second guess it, pulls him in and holds him tight as he can. It always helped Abby, and it feels—it feels like all those hugs for her were practice for this moment, for right now, holding Eddie and letting him breathe deep, shaky breaths into Buck’s shoulder.

“They’ll never take my son,” Eddie whispers. His fingers dig into Buck’s back.

“They won’t,” Buck promises. His lips graze the shell of Eddie’s ear, and Eddie tightens his grip as if in response. Buck tries not to read too much into that.

Eddie pulls away after another moment, wipes at his eyes, takes a swig of beer. “I started my training with the local firefighter station—Chim’s station—so I can be a medic. That’s what I was in the army, I’ve got training—and it pays really well, I could stop juggling three shitty jobs. Be with Christopher. And even that’s not good enough for them.”

He pauses, then adds, “My dad wasn’t around much when I was a kid, because of the same reasons, but now it’s like… like he’s trying to get a do-over with Christopher. And he keeps telling me to be there, to be there like he wasn’t, but he’s the one who was proud of me when I signed up for the army, and he’s never apologized for not being there for me, and I don’t—I don’t get it.”

“My dad wouldn’t know the word affection if it wrapped him in a fuzzy blanket,” Buck replies. “He’s not… a bad person. I wouldn’t ever say that. He’s just not a good parent.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. Exactly.” He snorts out a laugh and looks over at Buck, eyes dark and amused. “It’s kind of annoying how easy you are to talk to.”

“I’m told I’m cheaper than therapy,” Buck jokes.

“Oh? What do you charge?”

“Usually dinner,” Buck shoots back. “But you made me cook that one so…”

“I’m sure I could think of other ways to pay you,” Eddie says, and oh, _oh_ that’s very dangerous territory, late at night alone with a beer each down their throats and Eddie so very beautiful and so very close to Buck’s fingertips.

“I’ll be honest with you,” Buck admits. “There’s a time… not too long ago, I would’ve been asking you to spend the night. But uh…”

He fiddles with the label on his beer bottle. “It’s not Abby. I mean it is, Abby. But it’s not that she broke my heart. I mean, she did, but that’s not—that’s not why. I don’t… want to go back to who I was, back then. Buck 1.0. The Buck who just slept around and was… unfair to people, to friends and coworkers, because of it.”

Eddie nods. “I never really did casual anyway. There was just—after Shannon I didn’t have time, I had Chris. But even without Chris I don’t think I’d do it anyway. That’s not who I am.”

“That’s not who I want to be,” Buck concurs.

“So, platonic buddies who just kissed once and don't talk about it?” Eddie says, taking a swig of beer.

“Unless you go falling love with me,” Buck replies. “Which I wouldn’t advise. But there's no danger of that.” He falls in love with people, they don't fall in love with him.

“No,” Eddie murmurs, his gaze warm. “No danger of that at all.”

He leaves with a hug and not anything more, a warm slide of arms that still leaves him dizzy, and a promise to let Eddie and Chris take him to some fun local spots tomorrow. But he can’t go to sleep, not for hours, his brain a heady whirl of _Eddie, Eddie, Eddie._

* * *

Maddie, it turns out, hasn’t been to the beach in ages.

“Look, I was that idiot who lived in a city for years,” Chim informs her, tossing her the sunblock, “without doing any of the stuff all the tourists do. So we are going to the beach, we are going to Santa Monica Pier, and we’re going to the Getty, and you’re going to be so touristed-out that by the time Buck gets here, you’ll be giving _him_ tours of this place.”

Maddie just laughs in response and tells him he’s buying her a Pink’s hot dog.

Which, no, he is not doing, because that’s tomorrow. In-n-Out is today.

He gets a fantastic video of Maddie rushing right into the water and then turning around with a shriek and running right back out, yelling at him because he didn’t warn her it was freezing.

“It’s December and we’re south of Alaska!” he informs her, still filming. “What did you expect?”

“Not betrayal!” Maddie yells, the wind whipping in her face and ruining her attempt at being stern.

They walk up 3rd Street Promenade, where Chim bemoans the effects of gentrification. “When I was here, years ago, this place was great. There were street performers everywhere, really kooky stores, nothing really corporate… no bathrooms anywhere though unless you ate at one of the restaurants and maybe not even then… now it’s lost all of its personality.”

“We’ll always have Melrose,” Maddie says sympathetically, patting his arm, and Chim couldn’t stop smiling at her if he tried.

He doesn’t tell her where exactly the Getty is, and makes her close her eyes when they get off the tram and he leads her to the lookout spot on the far side of the south wing by the photography exhibit.

“Okay,” he says, thankful that for once the sky is clear and blue and the pollution’s at a minimum. “Open.”

Maddie’s eyes open, and he sees the moment it registers that she’s got the entire Los Angeles city sprawled out before her eyes, from downtown to Santa Monica and everything in between, and Chim thinks he’s never seen awe like that on a person’s face before.

If Chim had ever been asked what his idea of a perfect date was, he’d say this. This day, right here.

It’s not a date, though. Maddie is far from in a good place to be dating, far from in a good place to do… anything. He’s going to be her friend, and he’s going to think of every single way he can to make her smile. Because that’s what she needs. That’s what she deserves.

“There is more than just two days’ worth of things to do in LA,” she tells him that night, kicking his feet with hers as they lie facing one another on the couch.

“I’m telling you, LA is boring.”

“Hmm, if it’s boring, then why do you miss it so much?” Maddie passes him the popcorn while on screen, Buffy and Faith have another homoerotic moment.

“I…” Chim fiddles with the popcorn. “I do miss it, yeah. It was my home for… years. My… my parents came here with me for a business thing for my dad and my mom loved it so much she wanted to stay. So she did. And I stayed with her. And my best friend’s parents, they basically adopted me… they’re still here, too. It’s my city.”

“Then why’d you leave?” Maddie’s voice is soft, like she already knows where this is going.

Chim thinks that oddly enough, the sounds of teenage angst, the apocalypse, and monsters in the background is a fitting choice for a soundtrack to this moment. “He died. My best friend. We were… we’d just gotten through training and were in our probationary period. There was a fire, someone needed help, we were on the roof and he thought—he thought he could make it.”

Not often, anymore, but sometimes, when he looks into flames, he sees Kevin.

“It was my idea, to become firefighters. And I know it wasn’t my fault. His mom said—she said that being a firefighter was the happiest he’d ever been. But I still couldn’t… I was the one who talked him into it. I couldn’t stay here, after that. So I took up a post in Texas. I told myself it was temporary but then I just… kept staying.”

Maddie nods. Her hand rests on his ankle, her thumb stroking the strip of skin between his sock and the hem of his jeans, and the look on her face isn’t the sympathy he’s grown used to ignoring, but simple understanding.

“You know,” she says, into the long silence that follows, “you mentioned that you were going to give me a… what was it? Movie education? Movication? But… I’m not seeing any movies… I think you’re all talk.”

Chim grasps dramatically at his heart. “You wound me.” He sets down the popcorn. “Just for that, our first movie is gonna be _Die Hard_.”

“Please tell me that’s not a euphemism.”

Chim grabs the remote, and the smile on his face feels genuine.

* * *

Buck has had the best few days of his life and part of him wonders if he got hit by a bus or something and is in a coma living out a happily constructed dream life like that one TV show episode. Or was it a movie? He doesn’t remember.

Maybe it was X-Files?

Point is, he’s spent the last few days with Christopher (for whom he would cheerfully die) and Eddie (for whom he would cheerfully die in the French sense of the term) going to the local zoo, decorating their house for Christmas, making gingerbread houses, and generally falling hopelessly in love and he wants to just stay here forever.

But that morning, he’s woken up by banging on the back door. “Buck!”

He scrambles out of bed to find Christopher standing there, looking a bit distraught. “Hey, buddy, what’s wrong?”

“Grandma and Grandpa came over,” Christopher says softly. “Daddy told me I should go spend time with you.” He pauses. “He doesn’t want me to hear them yelling.”

Ah, shit. “C’mere.” He scoops Christopher up. “Why don’t we see if I can beat you at Mario Kart this time, huh?”

They play a few rounds, and then he settles Chris down with a snack and _Frozen_ (what the hell is the appeal of Olaf, Buck would like to know) while he slips over to next door.

Things are winding down, apparently. There’s no yelling, but Eddie’s sitting stubbornly on his couch having a staring contest with an older man while an older woman uses her hands to talk just as much as her voice.

Buck knocks politely on the back door, then waves through the screen.

The two older people, Eddie’s parents, look at him in confusion and annoyance. Eddie jumps up off the couch like it’s on fire. “Buck.”

Eddie brings him inside. “Chris…” he asks, his voice low.

“Laughing at the stupid snowman from that Disney movie,” Buck whispers. “He’s got a sandwich, juice, and carrots, figured I should stick to the healthy stuff.”

He’d fallen into a bad habit of eating junk food whenever Mom and Dad were arguing with Maddie, and he doesn’t want Christopher to have the same complicated relationship with food.

“Thanks.” Eddie grabs Buck by the shoulder, like he meant to clap it and ended up using it to stabilize himself.

“Figured I should see how you were doing,” Buck murmurs, and then he steps forward towards the Diaz parents. He grew up in WASP central, he knows how to be charming. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Diaz, I’ve heard so much about you.”

Whatever family argument they were having obviously can’t continue with a stranger in their midst, so Buck just keeps up the charm and runs interference until they’re forced to give up and say their goodbyes.

Eddie collapses like a puppet with cut strings once they’re gone. “Um. I need to…”

“Go see your son,” Buck tells him, and Eddie’s off like a rocket.

Buck busies himself cleaning up the glasses left out, doing a bit of housekeeping. It’s all he can do, since he can’t fix Eddie’s family.

Eddie returns with Christopher in tow, smiling in a way that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Buck clears his throat. He doesn’t want to overstep boundaries, and Eddie’s the parent, not Buck, but he feels like Eddie needs… Eddie needs to be taken care of, right now.

“Hey, y’know, I could really go for some ice cream. You know a good place?”

Christopher lights up and Eddie looks relieved.

“You sure you’re not some Clarence-guardian-angel thing?” he asks, when Christopher is asking for extra sprinkles on his scoop at the ice cream parlor.

“Nah,” Buck replies. “Just doing my best to give you a break. You’re a great dad. You deserve to have people see that.”

Eddie’s fingers tangle with his, and Buck just about stops breathing. “I mean it. You can have my back any day.”

“Or, y'know,” Buck replies, “you could have mine.”

Eddie doesn’t let go, and neither does Buck, until they get their ice cream (Buck insists on paying—it was his idea after all), and Buck wishes he _was_ a Clarence so that he could just flap his fluffy wings and make all of Eddie’s problems go away.

* * *

Maddie doesn’t join him for dinner with the Lees. She thinks she’d be intruding, and she needs to call her brother anyway, so Chim goes alone.

It’s good. It’s stilted at first, especially with Mr. Lee, but then they slide into the family dynamic they had before.

Chim misses Kevin like crazy. Misses the man he loves like a brother. But he missed this, too, missed the two people who took him in and loved him like he was their son, gave him everything his father never had and his mother no longer could.

When he returns, Maddie’s obviously been crying, but she’s also smiling. “How’d it go?”

“Good. It was… it was needed. It was good. You?”

Maddie wipes at her eyes. “Tough. But good. He can’t believe he’s missing me.”

Chim pauses. “Are you still… planning on leaving in the new year?”

“I think I should.” Maddie closes her laptop and looks down at her hands, curled inward on herself on the couch like a pill bug. “I did everything I could to keep my movements secret but I’m sure there’s ways for Doug to find me. I can’t risk it.”

“Maddie.” Chim sits down next to her and takes her hand. “Your brother is here. Your brother that you love. The guy who inspired you to get out. You’re across the country from Doug. I don’t think you should keep running.”

“But what if he finds me?” she whispers.

Chim squeezes her hand. “Then you’ll have your brother. You won’t be alone. Maddie. Hey.”

She looks up at him. God, she’s beautiful. She’s broken and repairing herself piece by piece and she’s so goddamn beautiful.

“Don’t let him take the rest of your life from you. Build a new one. Stay. If he comes, you’ll be ready. You’ll have family, you’ll have friends. Don’t let him put you on the run forever.”

Maddie lists to the side so that her head rests on his shoulder. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

“I know you are.”

He can feel her smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

They stay sitting like that for a while.

* * *

Buck stares into space for a long time after Maddie hangs up.

Maddie’s in LA. At his—Abby’s—apartment. Maddie, who he hasn’t seen since the wedding.

She stopped calling, texting, she never replied to his Christmas cards. He wasn’t even sure that she got them. He didn’t know what was going on. He figured—well, she cut Mom and Dad out of her life. He’d figured that he was just a part of that. Shedding the old, stepping into her new, perfect life with Doug.

He’s never liked Doug, but neither did Mom and Dad and that definitely was part of why Maddie loved him. Buck just assumed it was his own anger at his sister leaving him again that made him not like the guy, projecting his own feelings of abandonment onto a convenient scapegoat.

Now, though…

“What did he do to you, Maddie?” He knew it was probably the wrong question to ask, but he had to know.

“Enough,” she had replied, and that was that.

“Howie’s amazing, though,” she’d assured him. “He’s taken me to all the good spots in LA, we’re watching movies… it’s just what I need, Evan, really. I’m okay. I’m doing okay.”

“I’ll be home on the 27th,” he promised her. “I have an early flight. I’ll be there and whatever you need, Maddie, just say the word. I love you.”

“I love you.” He’s missed her, so much, and hearing her say those words meant more to him than—he hadn’t realized, how much he needed to hear her say that until she did. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there.”

“You’re here now,” he’d replied, because yeah it fucking hurt but it wasn’t exactly her choice and she didn’t need to hash that out right now.

“Knock knock,” Eddie says, jolting Buck out of his reverie. “You shouldn’t just leave your back door unlocked, y’know.”

“Maybe I was hoping you’d come over,” Buck replies, and then bites down hard on his tongue. They’re not—they can’t fuck this up with—even though Eddie held his hand, and they are flirting, it’s—he wants to be careful.

He wants to be careful for Eddie.

“You okay?” Eddie nods at the laptop and Buck’s red-rimmed eyes.

“Ah, yeah. Turns out my sister went to LA to surprise me for Christmas, but I’m over here.”

Eddie clears his throat. “You need to… head out?” His voice is carefully neutral.

Buck shakes his head and stands, stretches. Eddie’s gaze drifts to where Buck’s shirt lifts up, exposes his skin, and Buck tries not to blush. He’s pretty sure he fails. “She’s enjoying befriending Chim—more than befriending, I think—which I am definitely not going to think about—and I recall promising Christopher I’d make cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning, so…”

Something enters Eddie’s face and then Buck’s being kissed.

“Sorry, sorry.” Eddie starts to back off, but his hands are still on Buck’s face and Buck doesn’t want him to go anywhere.

“No, it’s—don’t apologize.” He grabs Eddie’s wrists.

“You’re just…” Eddie’s still staring at him, like maybe Buck is some kind of Clarence after all, and nobody, not even Abby, has ever looked at Buck like that.

Buck doesn’t know what the hell has happened in Eddie’s life between his parents and Shannon and the army to make him feel like simple kindness and support from someone is a miracle, but he can’t fix the problems in Eddie’s past. He can only try to give him and his son something good this Christmas.

It’s the most foolish thing he’s ever done, but he kisses Eddie again. Just the once. Like stealing that second piece of candy from the bowl of freebies on your way out of the restaurant.

“You sure you want to stay?” Eddie asks.

Buck squeezes Eddie’s wrists. “There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

* * *

Talking to her brother has definitely helped give Maddie some pep. They go up to Griffith Observatory and hike from there to the Hollywood sign, staring out over the city, and then find a ramen place because Maddie’s never had it.

“I could really love this city,” she admits. There’s still red all over her face from when tears and snot came out from the spicy miso, and Chim had been worried until Maddie laughed and said if it wasn’t spicy enough to make her cry it wasn’t worth it.

“Does that mean you’re staying?” he asks.

Maddie nods. “I think it does.”

They go to the Natural History Museum, just wandering around the dinosaur exhibit. It’s a lot fancier than it was when Chim was last here.

“I think you should stay, too,” Maddie says. She runs her fingers over the thigh bone of a brontosaurus, the replica that they have on display so kids can stand next to it and see how short they are in comparison. “You love it here. You never talk about El Paso, not really. You talk about here.”

Chim watches her fingers on the plaster and thinks about how he wants to intertwine them with his. “I don’t know. I don’t want to feel haunted.”

“I feel haunted,” Maddie replies. She pulls her hand away, lets it drop, and Chim realizes he was holding his breath. “Here, home, everywhere. I feel like I have to look over my shoulder. But I think you’re right and I should at least look over my shoulder with someone standing next to me. In a place that I like.”

“I’ll think about it,” Chim says.

“Besides.” Maddie bumps his shoulder with hers. “You’d get to hang out with me all the time.”

He has to admit, at least to himself—that’s the main reason he’d want to stay.

* * *

Christmas Eve was always special for Buck.

He knows now it was Maddie—Dad and Mom would never make such an effort—but when he was a kid, the excitement he’d felt waiting for Santa was enough to keep him wide-eyed all night in bed, shaking with anticipation.

Now, for the first time, he gets to play Santa. And he finds that being Santa for someone else is just as fun as being the kid Santa visits.

Maybe that’s the real magic of it. Finding joy in bringing happiness to others, finding ways to make the world magical.

“I let my mom be Santa the last couple of years,” Eddie admits over hot coco on Christmas Eve morning. “But with everything… Chris and I are doing Christmas morning here. Instead of going over there. So now I’m Santa.”

“Maddie would pull out all the stops,” Buck whispers. “Trust me, we can make this work.”

Eddie doesn’t kiss him, doesn’t even touch him, but he looks like he wants to. That’s more than good enough for Buck.

* * *

They’re kind of stumped on what to do for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. After all, “takeout and a movie” can only fill so many hours.

“If you are staying,” Maddie says, “it would be a good idea to check out some local stations, see who you might want to end up with.”

“Buck’s station is nearby.” Chim gets an idea. “And they don’t have Christmas off. Hey, do you know how to bake?”

“I used to do the Christmas cookies every year,” Maddie replies, and that’s how they end up shopping for baking supplies and turning the kitchen into a flour-covered mess.

Look, he didn’t start the cookie dough war. He just won it.

Maddie’s got flour all over her, and dough in her hair, but she’s grinning like a madwoman as she starts the timer on the oven. “Gingerbread, sugar cookies, and peppermint fudge. Perfect.”

“I can make the icing while you take a shower.” Chim gives a pointed look to her hair as he puts the cooling fudge into the fridge.

“And whose fault is that?” Maddie asks, gently hip-checking him.

“Hey, you threw the first handful of flour.” He hip-checks her right back. “Seriously, I can handle some icing.”

Maddie shoots him a grateful look as she goes to take her shower, and Chim spends the first minute and a half leaning against the counter trying to get his heart under control.

He likes her. He really, _really_ likes her. And he knows that if he wants this to be anything more than friends, he has to be willing to wait, and be patient, and he has to be open to the possibility that friendship is all it might ever be. Maddie is not in a place to be with anyone romantically right now.

If he leaves, though, if he goes back to El Paso… this won’t turn into anything. And he has no guarantee of it becoming anything but—isn’t a possibility better than nothing at all? And Maddie does have a point. He’s missed Los Angeles. He likes it here. El Paso was fine but that was it, it was _fine_.

He’s adding food coloring to different bowls of icing when Maddie returns, fresh-faced and glowing from her shower. Stick a halo on her and Chim wouldn’t see any difference.

“I’ll finish up here if you want to take a turn.”

“Thanks.” He passes the bowls over to her. “Hey. I think you’re right. I think I should stay.”

Maddie’s looking at the bowls of icing, but she’s biting down hard on her lip like he’s struggling to hide her smile.

They get their treats together and head over to Station 118 to deliver the goods. Chim keeps the radio off, since it’s nothing but Christmas music this time of year, and the silence is companionable. Comfortable.

It’s the kind of silence he could get used to.

They’re greeted by a skeptical looking woman with glasses. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m Chimney, I’m the guy who swapped houses with Buck for Christmas.”

The woman’s eyes light up. “You mean his ex-girlfriend’s house for Christmas.”

“What!?” Maddie elbows past Chim. “He failed to mention that little detail!”

“She’s his sister,” Chim mouths at the woman.

“Ohh, another Buckley! I’m Hen, Hen Wilson. And I would _love_ to hear everything about Buck. Preferably embarrassing kid stories.” She hooks her arm through Maddie’s and whisks her off.

“I’ll take those,” says a tall, older man, accepting the plates of cookies Chim’s still holding. “I’m Bobby, station captain. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” They shake hands. “Y’know, I think I almost ended up with you guys when I was finishing my training.”

“Thank God you didn’t,” Hen calls over her shoulder. “Our last captain was the pits.”

“We’ll show you around,” Bobby says, sounding amused, and that’s how Chim and Maddie end up having Christmas Eve dinner with the station.

He likes everyone here. They’re all great people—although the person he clicks most with is Hen—and what’s more, they’re a community. Maddie will be in good hands here, with her brother and these people.

_You could be good here, with them._

Of course, if he moved here, there’s no guarantee he’d get assigned to the 118. But he could still hang out with them he supposes, since he’d know them through Maddie and Buck.

Maddie is dying to know how Buck got that nickname.

“He actually told us to call him Buck,” Bobby insists.

Maddie has a thoughtful look on her face, and changes the subject.

“You should apply,” Hen says when all is said and done. “And you should come over for dinner at our place on the 26th. Karen would love to meet you.”

“Thanks.” He’s not a hugger when he first meets people, generally speaking, but with Hen it just fits.

“Good to go?” Maddie asks, and he turns around—and hears Hen chuckle.

That’s when he looks up. And sees the mistletoe.

He looks back down, and forgets how to breathe. Maddie—isn’t really in a place—

Maddie just smiles and kisses him, oh so softly, on the cheek.

Nobody says ‘aww’ but Chim can feel everyone thinking it.

“It was nice to meet you all,” Maddie says. She winks at Hen. “I’ll talk to Buck about finding his own place.”

They don’t talk about the kiss as they get back to the apartment, but when their fingers tangle over the popcorn bowl later, Chim’s pretty sure Maddie does it on purpose.

* * *

They eat the milk and cookies, Buck leaves muddy boot prints that lead to the back door, Eddie sprinkles a little bit of glitter around where the treats were, and Buck disposes of the ‘reindeer food’ (carrots, oats, and sprinkles) while Eddie fills Christopher’s stocking.

“It’s hard,” Eddie admits when they finish. “Finding the right presents. Trying to work around his needs.”

“But you pull it off.” Buck adds more marshmallows to his hot chocolate. What? Just because Chris isn’t awake doesn’t mean he’s now banned from hot chocolate drinking. “You’re a really great dad, Eddie, trust me.” He pauses. “And you deserve to have that be appreciated.”

“You keep saying that,” Eddie notes, enjoying his coffee.

“And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”

Eddie doesn’t look at him. “You’ll have to keep in touch to do that.”

“Maybe I want to keep in touch.”

Eddie does look at him, then, and God, if Maddie wasn’t in LA, he’d move out here, stay out here, he’d never go back.

“Want to watch _Christmas Vacation_?” he asks instead, because the last thing Eddie needs is a love confession on top of everything else in his life.

Eddie chuckles to himself, like his own private joke, then nods. “Yeah.”

* * *

Chim knows that Maddie didn’t want to do anything Christmas-y. Which is perfect when you’re in Los Angeles since there’s no snow to be found and the nepotism makes you feel a deep and powerful kinship with the Grinch.

But, that doesn’t mean he can’t do something a little special for her.

He’s not much of a cook—ask Marissa—but he knows how to follow some basic instructions and he’s not entirely hopeless, so he wakes up early and makes some Pillsbury cinnamon rolls and fries up some bacon.

He’s just pouring the coffee when Maddie stumbles in, wearing a robe and yawning adorably.

“Good morning,” he says, offering her a cup (two sugars, and more milk than Chim likes, despite her insistence that his coffee is lighter than hers is).

Maddie inhales deeply, taking in the smell of the food, and smiles. “Merry Christmas.”

It really is.

* * *

Eddie elbows him hard when Christopher opens the new LEGO set. “You did not.”

“Shhh, it’s Santa.”

“Santa couldn’t afford the Death Star.”

“Well maybe Santa was working his ass off at his firefighter training this year and deserved a little help,” Buck murmurs.

Eddie arches an eyebrow at him.

Buck shrugs. “I’m not gonna overstep any boundaries, here, but Eddie. I can help. You’re allowed to get help. You don’t have to do it all on your own. And I know you can do it. I’m not saying you can’t. I’m just saying… you deserve to breathe, once in a while.”

Christopher crows in delight and Eddie doesn’t say anything, but he wraps his arm around Buck’s shoulders, and Buck feels like he’s floating.

* * *

“No!” Maddie yells in defeat as Chim sinks her battleship. “How? How are you so good at this?”

“Embrace my evil genius,” Chim replies, passing her the last eggroll.

“Oh, it is so on,” Maddie vows, setting up for another game.

Chim’s phone rings, and she jumps. Chim pretends not to notice as he answers. It’s Buck, which doesn’t surprise him. Maddie left her old phone behind, writing down important numbers in a notebook that she took with her, and she’s bought her new one but hasn’t set up an actual phone number yet.

“Aww, Buck, I know you called just to hear my melodious voice,” Chim says, winking at Maddie.

“Ha, ha,” Buck replies. “Mind if I put you on FaceTime? I want to see Maddie’s face.”

“Yeah, not a problem.”

Chim adjusts so he and Maddie can sit together and see Buck, the video goes on, and…

“…are you with Eddie and Christopher?”

That’s definitely his next-door neighbor’s place, with Christopher sticking LEGOs together while Eddie lounges on the couch, his feet in Buck’s lap.

…why are his feet in Buck’s lap.

… _why is Buck massaging them._

“Hey, Chim.” Eddie waves.

“Hi Chimney!” Christopher calls from the background before returning to his toys.

There’s wrapping paper scattered everywhere, empty stockings, the remnants of breakfast on the coffee table, and a lit-up tree. It’s adorable, homey, and Chim has several questions that need to be answered immediately.

“Why are you over at Eddie’s?”

“Because I invited him,” Eddie says easily.

Eddie, who is so private with his personal life that Chim’s the only person who knew Shannon’s name, never mind that she ran away and then died. The rest of the station genuinely has no idea Eddie was ever even married (not being able to wear a wedding ring on shift helps with that). Most of them don’t even know about Christopher.

And within two weeks, Buck’s spending Christmas with the guy?

“Buck, we met your station!” Maddie says cheerfully.

The look of utter panic on Buck’s face is priceless. “What—did they—whatever they told you, it’s not true, a total exaggeration, I was taking that truck out for gas—”

“We have our own gas pumps at the station,” Eddie says, right at the same moment Maddie says, “What truck?”

Buck looks like he wants to hang himself with tinsel. “Nothing. Nothing about a truck.”

“They were really great,” Maddie assures him. “They told me you’re going by Buck exclusively now, too.”

“Ah, yeah.” Buck rubs at the back of his neck. “It… fit, better.”

“Why, what’s his real name?” Eddie crowds into the frame, looking mischievous.

“Evan,” Maddie says.

“Traitor!”

“Maddie is Buck’s sister, by the way,” Chim explains to Eddie.

“Oh excellent.” Eddie elbows Buck out of the way. “I have several questions for you.”

“No, he doesn’t!” Buck wrestles the phone away.

“I’ll let you two talk,” Chim says quietly, squeezing Maddie’s hand and then getting up to clean the dishes.

He can’t help but overhear a few things, though. Maddie asks about Eddie, and Buck goes bright red. “He’s… he’s, um, he’s amazing, Maddie. I… I told you why I had to get out of town for the holidays.”

“Yes.”

“He’s… so much more. Maddie he’s… yeah. He’s yeah.” Buck laughs self-deprecatingly.

“You know you don’t have to come back…”

“Of course I do.” Buck’s response is immediate. “I want to be with you, Maddie. I want to help you get through this. You’re my family.”

Maddie sounds like she’s tearing up. “Howie told me I… I should stay. I’m thinking of—of sending the divorce papers.”

“He’ll know where you are, if you do that.”

“I know. But I… I don’t want to be tied to him. I want to only look forward.”

“Then I’ll be there. For that, for everything. You took care of me, Maddie. All our childhood. Let me take care of you a little, okay?”

“Okay.” Maddie’s voice is barely a whisper.

After she hangs up, Chim hovers, unsure if he should touch her or give her some space. “Hey.”

Maddie stands and without hesitation, he knows what she needs. He opens his arms and she steps in, hugs him, and he hugs her back, holds her.

“I made a lot of mistakes,” she whispers. “And I try not to blame myself for—for everything with Doug—but I think the one thing—the one thing that I really regret is leaving Evan. And now—now he’s a whole different person. He’s going by a different name, he’s—he’s not _straight_ , and I didn’t know anything. I don’t know anything about his life, he has a whole life here…”

“Well, he doesn’t know you now, either.” Chim pulls back and takes her face in his hands, wiping the tears away. “So you two can get to know each other again, together.”

Maddie nods, smiles through her tears, and Chim hugs her again. “Hey, you want to do _one_ holiday thing?”

“…sure.”

Chim drives her down to Hollywood Riviera in Redondo Beach.

You can’t even live in this neighborhood unless you agree to participate in the Christmas light displays every year. It’s huge. Thousands of people come down to walk among the houses, buying hot chocolate from enterprising neighborhood kids, listening to the carolers. On Christmas Day it’s quiet—most people are at home with their families, so the lights are still on but it’s quiet and peaceful.

“So much of my life was about appearances,” Maddie says. They’ve walked in silence for twenty minutes, her eyes on the lights, and Chim’s just enjoyed watching her. “Mom and Dad… Evan never felt good enough. I never felt good enough. Then Doug came along and he swept me off my feet and my parents hated him and I thought he was perfect. And then it wasn’t just about appearances to be… perfect. It was about appearances to hide something—something scary. And Christmas is the ultimate time for that.

“But I hate that he took something—anything—from me—but especially something I loved growing up. Christmas was fun for me. It was special. And I want that back. I want to take back everything he took, I want it all to be mine again.”

“It will be,” Chim promises her.

Maddie hooks her arm through his, finally looking at him. He can see the lights reflected in her soft, dark eyes. “I believe that,” she says. “I believe that because of you. Thank you.”

“Of course,” he says, because he doesn’t know how to say that she’s given him the best Christmas he’s had in years.

* * *

It’s the day after Christmas.

Normally, such a day would be a little lackluster anyway. There’s leftovers to eat, taking down the decorations, the kids are busy playing with toys. It’s a weird limbo day.

But for Buck, this year, it’s the day before his flight leaves.

He and Eddie aren’t talking about it. They’ve talked about so much over the past two weeks. They’ve talked about their parents, about feeling like failures, about feeling lost. They’ve talked about Shannon and Abby and their jobs, about Christopher and Maddie and whatever the fuck is up with Maddie and Chimney. They’ve talked about their first boy crushes, about high school, about how Buck almost joined the SEALs, about how Eddie played cello as a kid, about Eddie’s two sisters and his nieces and nephews, about Buck’s learning how to cook from Bobby.

They haven’t talked about how Buck is leaving.

Buck cleans up the remains of the present massacre from yesterday, helps take down half of the decorations so that only the tree and the outdoor lights remain. Eddie says he’ll take them down after New Year’s. He vacuums and wipes down the kitchen while Eddie does the laundry.

It’s the most domestic he’s ever been. He wants it forever. It’s like Abby opened up some chasm inside of him, a chasm that craved stability and safety and ridiculous shit like matching towels in the bathroom, and then Eddie’s started to give it to him, to fill that chasm at last, and Buck doesn’t know how he’s going to live without it.

 _I could write you, I could call you, I could Skype, I could visit._ The words are on the tip of his tongue but he just can’t seem to get himself to say them.

Maybe because he’s scared of Eddie’s answer.

Christopher must sense something’s up, because he’s quiet all day, playing with his new toys in the bedroom and letting the adults have their space. He’s an understanding kid, an old soul, and Buck understands why Eddie’s fiercely protective of Chris, because Buck’s feeling pretty damn protective of Chris himself.

He packs while Eddie’s reading Christopher bedtime stories.

He knows this should be it. He should go back, say goodbye, return to Chim’s house and get a good night’s sleep before he takes a cab to the airport. He knows he should thank Eddie for the great holiday and leave it at that.

He goes back to Eddie’s. He makes it as far as that step.

Eddie’s sitting on the couch, shoulders curled inward, like a weight’s settled back on top of them.

Buck’s heart cracks.

“Is he asleep?”

Eddie stands up, a frantic look on his face, the kind of look you get when you’re trying to look like you weren’t caught feeling something intensely and you’re desperately attempting to act normal. “Ah, yeah. Thanks for saying goodnight to him, and all, he really likes you. He’ll—he’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss him. He’s the best kid I’ve ever met.”

“He made me a card,” Eddie says, gesturing at the coffee table. “For me to, uh, to give to you. For your flight.”

Buck nods and walks over. “It’s sweet of him.”

“Yeah. He’s a sweet kid.”

“He gets it from his dad.”

Eddie makes a wounded noise and looks away. “You gotta stop saying shit like that.”

“Why? You might start to actually believe it?”

They’ve gotten so close. They’re too close.

“You know why,” Eddie says, and Buck doesn’t know which one of them moves, just that Eddie’s mouth on his is the warmest thing Buck’s ever felt.

They’re careful, moving to the bedroom, aware that one loud noise will wake Christopher and end this. Eddie’s arm is warm and solid around Buck’s waist, an anchor, and Buck has never felt safer, more held, in his life.

They manage to make it to their destination without incident, closing the door silently, entering a soft darkness lit only by the Christmas lights shining in from the outside, giving everything the sort of soft, magical glow that made Buck feel every December as a kid that maybe miracles did happen.

He’d give anything for a Christmas miracle to happen now, for him and Eddie.

“I don’t—you know I don’t do this,” Buck whispers, “but I—I need—” _I need to love you, just once._

“I know,” Eddie whispers, kissing him over and over soft as snow, pressing him down onto the mattress. “I know, I know, I know.”

They don’t stop kissing, and thank fuck for that, because Buck doesn’t know how to ask for Eddie to never stop. He doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants, used to giving and not to receiving, but Eddie’s the same way, Eddie knows all about that, so Eddie just keeps it up and his lips only ever leave Buck’s for the span of time it takes for them to get their shirts off.

Buck spreads his legs, cradles Eddie between his thighs, rocks up into him. Eddie groans, the sound making Buck’s teeth vibrate. Their hips roll into each other, again, again, and Buck wants more—he wants Eddie completely, he wants to be so joined together that they fuse into one—but he also doesn’t want Eddie to pull away.

Eddie’s cock dragging against his, firm and velvety, is setting Buck on fire, burning him slowly, and he squirms, finds the angle that makes Eddie’s breath choke in his throat. Logically, he should ask about condoms, but he’s so fucking turned on and he’s clean and Eddie hasn’t been with anyone in years and he can’t leave Eddie’s arms, he can’t, he can’t.

Eddie fits one hand under Buck’s thigh and thrusts harder, with more purpose, their cocks dragging together as Buck pants into his mouth.

At some point, he starts babbling. “God, yeah, so good, you’re so good, Eddie, you’re so _good_ …” and he doesn’t just mean right now but he doesn’t know how else to explain it, what other words to use.

Eddie makes a noise like he’s been gut punched and presses his face to Buck’s neck. Warm wetness stains Buck’s throat, and he shivers, sobs, and comes. It feels like someone’s wrapped a string around the base of his spinal cord and yanked.

He’s still feeling the aftershocks when Eddie orgasms.

Buck’s scared that Eddie will let go now, that he’ll stop kissing him, but Eddie just holds on tighter. His kisses turn into molasses: sticky and slow, tasting bitter and deep and sweet all at once.

Buck runs his fingers through Eddie’s hair and lets his fingertips trace nonsense patterns into the skin of Eddie’s lower back. _Come with me,_ he wants to whisper. _Come with me to L.A._

He can’t ask that. He can’t ask Eddie to leave his family, his support system, his job. He can’t ask Eddie to upend his son’s life, especially only six months after his mother’s death. Even if Eddie is angry with his parents, even if he doesn’t trust them—Buck can’t take advantage of that. He can’t ask Eddie to move halfway across the country for a man he just met.

But God, does he want to.

“When’s your flight?” Eddie whispers. His weight keeps Buck grounded, heavy and firm, but his hands on Buck’s skin are the softest thing Buck’s ever known.

“Seven.”

It’ll be good this way. He’ll slip out while Eddie’s still asleep, get to the airport too tired to feel anything.

Eddie nods. He presses his forehead to Buck’s. Buck can feel him breathing, exhaling as Buck inhales, their chests expanding and contracting in counterpoint rhythm.

They just lie there for a bit, until Buck thinks Eddie’s fallen asleep—but then Eddie whispers, “I want to keep you.” He pauses. “I’ve never felt unselfish for wanting something before.”

Buck holds him impossibly tighter. Eddie should get everything he wants. He should never feel guilty for it. “I love you.”

Eddie’s kiss tastes like salt. Buck never said that out loud to Abby, partly because he was scared of his own emotions, partly because he was scared she wouldn’t say it back. He’s not scared of anything, right now. Not with Eddie.

Maybe that’s what this is how it’s supposed to be. Finding someone to feel so safe with, he can feel it, and say it, and it doesn’t matter what else happens.

Eddie’s saying it back anyway, though. It’s in every line of his body as he kisses Buck and digs his nails in and shakes and holds him like Buck will have to rip Eddie apart to have a hope of getting away. Eddie’s not exactly one for words, and that’s okay. Buck knows him. He knows what Eddie’s saying.

And he knows that Eddie knows Buck is saying he’d stay if he could.

It's not fair. It's not fair that he went through everything with Abby to become the man that Eddie needed, to find the person he clicks with so naturally it feels like they've been best friends forever, only to have that person live thousands of miles away in a different state. It's not fair to look up and think _oh, there you are, I've been waiting for you,_ only to have everything else in life pull him back.

It's not fair. But he can't do anything about it. He can only hold on tight as he can and breathe in Eddie's everything. It's sweet as candy cane and as bitter as coal, all at once. _Merry fuckin' Christmas indeed._

He falls asleep with Eddie on top of him, Eddie’s breath on his neck, Eddie’s arms around him.

* * *

“That’s the last of it,” Chim announces, zipping up his suitcase.

Maddie watches him from where she’s leaning against the wall. “You really packed a lot.”

“Well, to be fair, I thought I’d be spending two weeks alone instead of in your fantastic company.” He stands, hands on his hips, smiling.

Maddie nods. She bites her lip. “You know… have you given any thought? To what I said?”

“About the theatrical version of _Lord of the Rings_ being better than the extended edition? No, because I don’t give thought to ludicrously wrong opinions.”

Maddie smiles at him fondly. “No, I meant… to staying.”

He swallows. “I have, yeah.”

Maddie watches him, hope on her face. And Chim’s not doing this just for her, not only for her, but God, he really is in love with her, like the ultimate sucker.

After all, who falls in love with someone over two weeks of Christmas besides Hallmark protagonists and the cast of _Love, Actually_?

“I think you’re right. I think I’m happy here. This is my city, Kevin’s parents are here, the 118 seems great, and… I couldn’t leave my new friend to figure out the horrible LA traffic system unassisted.”

Maddie blushes. “There are still so many things you have to take me to see. The Skirball Museum, that glass church on the coast…”

He knows Buck could take her to all of those places. But he nods. “Yeah. I couldn’t possibly miss seeing the look on your face at the Watts Towers.”

Maddie tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and clears her throat. “And, you know. In a while, after—after the divorce goes through, and all that, maybe—maybe we could…” She shrugs.

He walks over and takes her hands. “Hey. I am okay being friends with you. As long as you need. Okay? If you ever want to—my calendar is wide open. But only if and when you want to.”

“I want to want to,” Maddie says, and then before Chim can even process it she’s placing her hands on his shoulders and kissing him, soft, lingering, the kind of kiss that’s like a promise. It’s a _see you later_ kiss.

He reaches up and dares to wrap a lock of her hair around his finger. “Well, when you’re ready to want to, I’m here.” He pauses. “Well, not literally just yet, I gotta—I gotta sell my house, and find a place here, and move, and take care of the station transfer…”

Maddie laughs, and it’s the best goddamn sound in the world.

* * *

The sound of his alarm is the worst goddamn thing in the world.

Buck turns it off, careful not to jostle Eddie too much. It’s so fucking early it’s still completely dark out, and he hates that he can’t turn on a light to get a proper look at Eddie one last time.

He’s got to let Eddie sleep, though. Eddie’s got a job and a kid to take care of in a few hours and Buck won’t fuck up his sleep schedule, and besides—if he wakes Eddie up and the man kisses him, Buck will never leave. He’ll miss his flight and let himself be lost.

Eddie doesn’t stir as Buck leverages himself up and out of bed. They didn’t move while asleep, and he’s sticky with sweat and, uh, other things. He dresses carefully, pulls the blanket back up over Eddie so he doesn’t get cold, and runs a hand through Eddie’s hair.

Then he makes himself leave.

The airport is cold and impersonal. The Christmas music grates on his ears as it plays through the loudspeakers (it’s after the 25th for the love of God…) and when he lands, the only thing keeping him from growling like a bear woken from hibernation is the fact that he’s going to see Maddie.

He just wants to crawl back into a warm bed with a warm person and have them bury their face in his neck and never, ever leave.

Standing at the pickup spot is a man that Buck recognizes from his profile picture and FaceTime. “Hey, Chim.”

“Hey, big guy.” Chim takes his bag. “Figured I’d drive so you and Maddie can catch up. How’s Eddie?”

Buck knows he reacts, he can feel it in the way his body tenses, then loosens, the way his face heats up. “Um. He’s good. Y’know. He’s… yeah.”

“He’s yeah,” Chim repeats, but he kindly doesn’t say anything more, and then Buck hears his name and he turns…

 _Maddie_.

He enfolds her in his arms, smells her hair, feels how she’s the perfect height to tuck her head under his chin. His big sister.

It’s not the same as having Eddie back. That love is different. But he’s holding his sister for the first time in three years, and she’s happy and safe, and for just a moment, Buck feels whole again.

* * *

_Ah, but in case I stand one little chance…_

_Here comes the jackpot question in advance:_

_What are you doing New Year’s,_

_New Year’s Eve?_

Chim clinks his champagne glass with Maddie and Buck as Ella Fitzgerald croons on the speakers. “Happy New Year!”

Buck kisses his sister on the cheek, Maddie kisses Chim on the cheek, and Chim blows a kiss to Buck who makes a dramatic show of catching it.

The doorbell rings and Chim jumps up. “Ah, takeout!”

Buck stares. “You just got takeout! Twice!”

“This is the last batch!” Maddie says helping Chim take the food so he has a hand free to tip the delivery guy.

“How do you two eat so much?” Buck says faintly.

“It’s a tradition,” Chim says. “Your sister here can never choose just one thing to get, so we get a bit of everything. And since she hates leftovers, I now have food for the rest of the time.”

“Oh no.” Maddie gives him a sad look. “They forgot the…”

Chim was prepared for this. He produces the sauce with a flourish. Yeah, he had to track down Bobby’s number and ask him for help, but he made it himself. Ha.

“You made me sauce?” Maddie looks at him like he hung the damn moon and Chim’s stomach erupts into butterflies.

Buck just looks confused. Then knowing. “Oh my God. Oh my _God_. And you!? Judged me!? For finding a—a person over my holiday? You two are dating!”

“We’re not dating,” Chim says firmly.

Maddie stutters. “We’re just—it’s not…”

Buck gives her the sort of unimpressed look a person can only manage to give their sibling.

“We’re not dating,” Maddie says, her voice stronger. “Yet.”

Buck seems to understand at that point, since he changes the subject to judging his sister’s food choices, and Chim makes a tiny toast, just to himself, with his champagne.

He already knows it’s going to be a fantastic new year.

* * *

“Picking an apartment should not be this insane,” Maddie says as she brings snacks over. “I found mine in a matter of days.”

“I want it to be just right,” Buck replies.

Truthfully, he hasn’t been looking for apartments at all. He’s been thinking about Eddie and Christopher.

He can’t pack up and move to Texas, not when Maddie just moved out here to be with him, not when Chim’s just convinced her to stay. But he misses them, he misses them so much and it feels like if he picks an apartment and moves on with his life it’ll be like they didn’t mean anything to him and he knows that’s stupid but—

The doorbell rings. Buck jumps up. “I’ll get it.” It’s probably Chim.

It’s not Chim.

Eddie stands there in a soft green-and-red plaid flannel shirt, a nervous tenseness in his shoulders and day-old stubble on his jaw.

Buck can’t even breathe.

“Did you know,” Eddie says, “that my abuela lives out here? And my aunt? I’ve always been really close with both of them.”

Buck steps out into the hall. “N-no, I didn’t know that.”

“Did you know that LA has really good schools for kids with special needs?”

Buck shakes his head.

“Did you know…” Eddie takes Buck’s face in his hands. “…that I love you?”

Buck nods. Yes. He knows that one. It lives in the spaces between his atoms.

Eddie kisses him, and Buck wraps his arms around him and holds on for dear life, kissing him back.

“Buck, you left the… oh.” There’s a pause. “Hi, Eddie, nice to meet you in person.”

He shamelessly ignores Maddie in favor of tasting Eddie’s smile.

“Great. I’ll be here when you’re finished.” He can hear Maddie’s eyeroll even louder than he can hear the door being shut.

It’s a few days late, and they already spent the day together, but… “Merry Christmas.”

Eddie laughs. Buck can feel it against his chest. “Happy New Year.”

Oh yeah. It’s gonna be a happy one. Buck can already tell.


End file.
